The Daughter of an Empress eBook

It was a solemn, a sublime moment, for the pope must
now receive the communion—­the vicegerent
of God must drink the blood of the Lamb. But
still the pope remains sacred; he cannot, like other
mortals, make use of his earthly feet; he must not,
like them, approach the altar. Sitting upon his
throne, he has partaken of the holy wafer, and, as
it was unbecoming his dignity to descend to the altar
in order to come to Christ, the latter must decide
to come to him!

The golden chalice at the high altar contains the
blood of the Lamb; the Cardinal Francesco Albani performs
the holy office. He has the blessed host, and
under his consecrated hand will now be effected the
miracle of turning the wine into the blood of Christ!

And Cardinal Albani lays the golden tube in the cup,
and another cardinal passes the other end of the tube
to the pope.

Through this sacred tube will he sip the consecrated
wine, the blood of the Redeemer!

Rushing and thundering recommences the high office,
the trumpets renew their blasts, the drums roll, the
bells ring, the organ rattles its song of jubilee,
the trombones crash in unison. It is the greatest,
most sublime moment of the whole ceremony. The
pope, having put the golden tube to his lips, sips
the wine changed into blood.

While the pope drinks the two cardinals who to-day
are on service approach the sacred throne. They
hold a torch in the right hand and a small bundle
of tow in the left, and according to the custom, set
the tow on fire.

It flashes up in a bright flame, is soon extinguished,
and a small, almost imperceptible quantity of ashes
floats from it to the feet of the pope.

“Sic transit gloria mundi!” (So
passes the glory of the world!) exclaimed Francesco
Albani, with proud presumptuousness and with maliciously
scornful glances, while with an expression of savage
triumph he stares in the paling face of the pope.
“Sic transit gloria mundi!” repeated
Albani, in a yet louder and more thundering voice.

The bells ring, the hymn resounds, the trombone and
organ clang; the audience are on their knees in prayer.
A bustle arises, a suppressed murmur—­the
holy father of Christendom has fainted upon his throne
like any common mortal man.

THE VAPO

Since Paulo had left her, and she found herself alone,
Natalie felt sad, solitary, in the paradise that surrounded
her. No longer did she sing in emulation of the
birds, no longer did she hop with youthful delight
and the impetuosity of a young roe through the charming
alleys. Sadly, and with downcast eyes, sat she
under the myrtle bush by the murmuring fountains,
and frequent heavy sighs heaved her laboring breast.